


Bunches of roses and a lemonade

by sarahcakes613



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), M/M, Oral Sex, Requited Unrequited Love, Rimming, endgame is Rolleigns, smut is Ambrollins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: "I’d marry Roman because he knows what it’s like to be a husband, caretaker of a home. And Ambrose, when you get to shagging, he’s the wild one so at least I know I’d have a good story."After Seth answers a fan's question on a Reddit AMA, Dean decides to give Seth exactly what he asks for, and he also does what he can to help Roman get his own happy ending.
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Bunches of roses and a lemonade

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in April 2019. Big ups to the WWE for continuing to put Dean in house shows after his announcement, because it let me virtually revisit a place I used to live.

“ _Did you see Seth’s thing on Reddit?_ ”

Dean holds the phone away from his ear, looking at the screen to confirm that it is indeed Roman who’s just called him.

“Uhhh no?” He says, dragging his laptop across his bed. “What thing?”

_“He did an Ask Me Anything and someone asked him a fuck/marry/kill question.”_

Dean grunts in acknowledgement as he does a search for “seth rollins ama”. He finds it, and conveniently, all the questions that were actually answered are at the top of the comment thread. Roman waits silently as he scrolls, and then Dean finds the answer and snorts loudly.

_“Why does he think I know what it’s like to be a caretaker of a home? I’m on the road 250 days a year and every time I see my kid, she’s got new teeth!”_

Dean’s more interested in what Seth had to say about him, but he also doesn’t want Roman to spiral into a ball of anxiety two days before Wrestlemania.

“Why don’t you ask him?” He suggests, more to hear the indignant sputters than because he thinks Roman will actually take his advice.

_“I can’t do that!”_ Roman says, his voice going high-pitched like he’s doing his Bo Dallas impression. _“If I do that, he’s going to want to know why I care!”_

“Uh-huh,” Dean says, putting his phone on speaker so he can get ready for bed. “And you’re afraid if he asks why you care, you’ll say somethin’ stupid like ‘because I want to buy a house with you and live in it and have lots of sex and adopt lots of tiny dogs’?”

There’s silence while Roman tries to formulate an argument when he knows Dean is right, and then a petulant “fuck you, Ambrose,” before the phone call disconnects. A text comes through, a row of middle finger emojis followed by a single blue heart. He laughs, texts back “love you too, brother” and heads for the shower.

While he stands under the hot water, he thinks about what Seth had said about him. Not just the comment about him being wild in the sack, but about how he is most like his onscreen persona. It’s true, Dean’s never been good at the acting component of what they do, it’s always just been easier to craft a character that’s true to life.

He closes his eyes to rinse his hair and lets his mind wander to what, exactly, he would do if Seth ever decided he wanted to find out just how wild he could get. Seth’s a closet romantic, so he wouldn’t want to do anything that scares him off. By the time he shuts the water off, an idea is half-formed in his head, and he flops into bed naked but for his towel and grabs his phone.

His tongue sticks out of his mouth as he turns the front-facing camera on and snaps a few quick photos of himself, water pooling in the divot on his chest and his towel starting to slide open where his hard cock is lifting the terrycloth fabric. He swipes through them and chooses the best one to send to Seth.

Let me know if you ever want that good story =p **Sent 11:43pm**

He flips over to Candy Crush, playing a few rounds while he waits for a reply. It doesn’t take long, his phone vibrating with an incoming call.

_“What the fuck, man?”_

Dean laughs, tonight’s just a good night for his brothers not bothering to say hello before launching into their conversation.

“I saw your AMA, baby,” he says, wiggling down so he is lying flat on the bed, thick hotel pillows propping his head up. “I have to say, I’m a little hurt you don’t think I’d be a good husband.”

Seth groans. “Do you have any idea how fast those questions come in?” He asks, “I just said the first thing that popped into my head.”

“And the first thing that popped into your head was that I’d be a wildcat in the sack, huh?”

“I’ve heard enough of your stories,” Seth sniffs.

Dean grins at the fond memories of late nights of draining the minibar and swapping tales of sexual derring-do. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it special, you wouldn’t be just another story.” He croons, and he hears a thump on the other end, then a rustling.

“You there?” He asks, when Seth doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Yeah,” Seth huffs. Dean can imagine him right now, blowing frizzy whisps of hair out of his face. “Almost dropped my phone. Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What, baby?” He lowers his voice, slides into his taunting promo voice. “You don’t like it when I call you baby, baby?”

There’s a beat, and then, “I didn’t say that,” Seth mumbles.

“No,” Dean agrees, “because you’re a good boy.”

There’s a tiny whimper from Seth, and Dean laughs.

“Get some sleep,” he says. “We’ll talk again after Wrestlemania.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, hanging up and nestling further down into his pillows with a satisfied smile. Seth has a few days to think about his offer, and the ball’s in his corner now.

Seth wins the Universal Championship in New Jersey and then they have two weeks of house shows before the final Shield reunion will be filmed. Dean’s departure has already been announced, and he’s got no title matches on his plate, but he’s still booked into a handful of shows, including one in Montréal.

It stings, just the tiniest bit, to watch from behind the scenes as AJ helps Roman and Seth to a tag team victory, but the sting is soothed when his brothers call him out into the ring to say goodbye to the crowd.

When they leave the ring and walk backstage, Seth has his red championship belt thrown over one shoulder and Dean flicks at it with a smirk.

“Looks good on you, baby,” he says, not bothering to keep his voice down. Seth and Roman both shoot him looks. Roman’s is confused, Seth’s is incredulous.

“You think any more about that offer?” He asks, and Seth’s eyes dart around as if someone nearby might overhear and know exactly what Dean’s referring to.

“Not really,” he replies stiffly, but his gaze is locked somewhere below Dean’s collarbone, unable to look him in the face and lie.

“If you say so,” Dean shrugs, changing the subject. “I’m starving, you guys want to get something to eat? I could go for poutine, I had really good poutine last time we were up here.”

“I’m good,” Roman says, and his voice tilts up a bit, like he’s asking more than telling. “I’m going to head back to the hotel, maybe see if my girl’s still awake for a goodnight call.”

Dean nods casually, fingers drumming along his thighs. “What about you, champ?” He asks Seth. He doesn’t miss the thinning hair that always hung lank in his eyes, but he does miss the way he could watch Seth from behind a curtain.

Seth is looking at him like he’s trying to figure out what Dean’s game is. “Sure,” he says, even as his eyes say _I know you’re not interested in poutine_.

When they get outside, Roman gets into a car and Dean throws him a lazy salute as he slings his other arm casually over Seth’s shoulders. Roman arches an eyebrow and Dean winks at him. Understanding dawns on Roman’s face, followed by something else, something that looks like longing.

Dean pauses then, but Roman shakes his head and smiles, lifts a hand and does a little shooing motion. He rolls his window up and the car pulls away, leaving Dean and Seth alone outside the arena.

They walk side by side, Dean’s arm still around Seth’s shoulders, and the other man has made no effort to shove him off. Dean’s got the hotel plugged into his map app, and he keeps an eye on it as they walk, not wanting to wind up too far afield.

“The hotel room service probably has poutine,” Seth says after they’ve been walking a few minutes. It’s the first thing he’s said since they left the arena.

Dean looks down at him. “Probably,” he agrees. He looks at his phone and steers them back down in the direction of the hotel.

There are a few fans loitering outside the hotel but with Seth’s belt stowed in his bag and in jackets and hats, no one is looking at them. They walk in uninterrupted and Dean nudges Seth once they’re in an elevator.

“I bet you’ve got a nicer room,” he smirks. “Nothing but the best for the champ.”

Seth rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, and pushes the button that will take them to his floor. There’s been a fraught tension tugging between them all night, but Dean is determined to wait for Seth to make the first move.

As the elevator doors close, Seth does just that, crowding him into a corner, lunging up and kissing him hard. Dean growls and wraps an arm around him, pulling him in closer and nipping at his lower lip.

It’s only seconds before the doors open again and Seth pulls away, his mouth already red and swollen. He backs out of the elevator and Dean follows him down to his room.

He was right, Seth’s room is way nicer than his, a king bed and unopened gift basket on the table.

“You think there’s any of that good maple candy in here?” He asks, the cellophane crinkling as he prods at it. Seth barely looks at it, just dumps his bag on the floor and kicks his shoes off before reaching for Dean again and pulling him in for another kiss.

They both know neither of them is going to be eating anytime soon.

Dean moves against him, pushing until Seth’s legs hit the bed. Seth falls back and Dean goes with him, straddling his hips.

“Hey baby,” he says with a grin, leaning forward with his hands on either side of Seth’s head.

“Hey,” Seth says breathlessly. He pushes his hips up and Dean can feel his hard length under the layers of clothing.

They should probably talk, should probably discuss what they’re about to do, but Dean doesn’t think either of them much feel like talking right now.

“You trust me?” He asks, running his hand down Seth’s torso and sliding it back up under his shirt. His fingers find a nipple and tweak it gently. Seth hisses.

“Yeah,” he says, “I trust you.”

Dean pushes Seth’s shirt up over his head, leaving it tucked around his shoulders. He isn’t immobilized like this, but his arm reach is hobbled somewhat. Leaning down, Dean licks a hot stripe directly across his pec, teeth grazing at Seth’s nipple. Seth hisses again and tries to wiggle his torso away.

“Come on now,” Dean says, “no running from me. What do you want?”

Seth closes his eyes as he thinks. When he opens them again, his pupils are blown, his dark brown eyes nearly black.

“I want you to suck me off,” he says, “and I want to eat your ass.”

Dean rocks back in surprise, his cock fattening up in his jeans at the thought of Seth’s soft beard rubbing between his thighs.

“Fuck, yeah, okay,” he says, sliding off the other man long just long enough to tear his clothes off before reaching for Seth’s waistband and yanking at his tight jeans until they are out of his way. He’d been expecting Seth to ask for something more intense, maybe to get fucked or to fuck Dean, but he’s not going to turn down a chance to suck Seth’s perfect dick and he’s absolutely not going to turn down the chance to sit on that gorgeous face.

He pauses to admire Seth’s body before straddling him again, lets his eyes run down cut abs and strong thighs, dark hair and tanned skin for miles. His cock is standing straight up, and it’s certainly not the first time Dean’s seen it, not even the first time he’s seen it hard, but this time it’s all for him, and he greedily drinks his fill before Seth starts to wiggle again.

“Come on,” he says in an imperious tone, and Dean snorts.

“It’s cute that you think you’re in charge, baby.” He says, and Seth flushes, but doesn’t say anything more. Dean climbs back on the bed and turns around, sliding one leg over so he is straddling Seth backwards. He’s got a few inches on the man beneath him, which means he can stretch out his body and Seth won’t need to tilt his head too much for this to work.

Dean’s never been terribly interested in foreplay, in soft teasing touches or buildup. He lowers himself so his mouth hovers in the air above Seth’s dick and breathes out a puff of hot air just to see it twitch. Then he closes his mouth over the tip and away he fucking goes.

Seth tastes like sweat and salt and something else, something indefinable, and his tongue swirls around the tip and down the shaft as he chases the taste.

There had been a muffled shout in the moment he sealed his lips around Seth, but then he’d tilted his hips down and back, presenting himself to Seth, and Seth’s mouth had gone to work as diligently as his own, too busy to make any noises beyond grunts and the occasional whimper that leaks out between licks.

He was right, Seth’s beard feels fucking amazing against his skin, soft and bristly and raising goosebumps on his skin wherever it rubs. Seth’s tongue is moving slowly, licking up in broad strokes before circling his rim and then flicking lightly directly over his hole. His hands stroke the inside of Dean’s thighs, grope at his ass, grip his hips and tug him down further.

Dean swallows a moan as Seth’s tongue slips into him, licking deeply within his body. His thighs quiver with the tension of building pleasure and he bucks his hips, riding Seth’s face and simultaneously using Seth’s pecs as a surface to rub his cock against, his tip wet and leaking, leaving a trail of precome in Seth’s chest hair.

Every time he bucks down, Seth’s hips buck up in response, his cock driving deeper into Dean’s mouth. He wraps his hand around the length that doesn’t fit and squeezes tightly as he jerks it, his mouth tight around the tip as he bobs his head, his tongue continuing to dance up and down Seth’s cock.

He feels Seth’s breath hitching against his skin, his open mouth pressed against Dean’s asscheek as his gasps turning into a shout of warning.

“Dean, fuck, I’m gonna – I’m – fuck, fuuuuuck!” Seth cries out as he comes, Dean’s mouth filling with bitter hot spunk. He rolls Seth’s balls in his hand, massaging and tugging at them, extending his orgasm until he is fully depleted and his cries devolve back into whimpers.

He slowly slides his mouth off of Seth, careful not to spill a drop, and then turns around and lowers back own to kiss Seth, his tongue sliding into his mouth, feeding him his own taste. Seth swallows the kiss with a broken gasp and his hands scrabble at sweaty sticking skin to wrap around Dean’s cock and pull. He doesn’t care about finesse, doesn’t care about anything except making Dean come and he does, his cock shooting creamy white stripes across Seth’s body as he lets out a low groan.

They’re both breathing heavily as Dean slumps down next to Seth, one leg still sprawled over his thighs.

“I need a cigarette,” Dean mumbles. He shoves himself off the bed and slides into his jeans, reaching into the pocket for a crumpled pack of smokes. Seth stays on the bed as he moves onto the balcony. It’s cold, probably only about 50, and he puts his hoodie on over his bare torso, leaving it unzipped.

He hears shuffling and a yawn behind him and Seth leans against the open sliding door.

“That was fun,” he says cautiously, and Dean chuckles.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Now you got your story, time to work your way down the rest of the list.”

“Huh?” Seth screws up his face at him.

Dean gestures vaguely with his cigarette. “You know Roman’s crazy about you, right? Dude basically called me in tears after your Reddit thing. Wants to wife you up and everything.”

Seth scoffs, but there’s a hesitancy to it. “Yeah, right,” he says, and then pauses. “Did he really?” He asks softly. He’s scratching at his beard the way he always does when he needs something to do with his hands.

Dean reaches out and tugs lightly on the hair that is falling out of the loose bun he’s thrown it in. “Yeah,” he says. He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out on the railing, then moves past Seth back into the room.

“I still want my poutine,” he declares, picking up the phone to order room service. “And a lemonade. You want a lemonade?”

Seth shakes his head. “I’m not really hungry,” he says. Dean looks at him. “Maybe just a grilled cheese, or something,” he relents.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Dean says when he’s finished ordering their midnight snack. Seth nods absently.

“Make yourself at home,” he snarks, but it’s said with a fondness, and Dean beams at him with his best choirboy smile.

“I will,” he promises. “We can stay up all night and talk about boys and braid your hair.” Seth rolls his eyes in response.

He doesn’t spend the night, returns to his room after they finish eating. He cups the back of Seth’s head and kisses him on the forehead before he leaves.

“You know I’m only leaving the company, right?” Dean says. “I’m never leaving you guys. I’m always just a phone call away.”

“Yeah,” Seth says, leaning into the embrace for a brief moment. “I know.”

“Good,” Dean says. “And talk to Roman, seriously. The boy is pining so much he could build a damn forest in his backyard.”

As he ambles down the stairs to his own floor, Dean thumbs through his messages. There are two from Roman, the first sent just after they left the arena and the second sent an hour later.

_Have fun, brother._ **Sent 11:37pm**

_Take care of him for me._ **Sent 12:43am**

Dean frowns. He knows he’s the most observant of the three of them, but he’s not sure how he feels about being the one most in tune with their emotions.

It’s past 2am but he replies anyhow, knowing Roman might still be awake.

Ur an idiot. He wants you so bad. **Sent 2:17am**

He crawls into bed to sleep off the exhilaration of a good night and mentally pats himself on the back in advance of his friends figuring their shit out thanks to him.

* * *

Roman knocks on the hotel door and bounces nervously on his feet, hiking his bag up on his shoulder. The cellophane in his hand crinkles and sticks to his sweaty palm, and he switches hands, wiping his palm on his sweatpants.

Their next show is in Florida tomorrow night and they have today free, their flight not scheduled until later in the day. He’s already gotten in a workout and if Seth opens the damn door, he’s hoping they can get breakfast together.

The longer he waits, the more he rethinks the flowers. Red roses are probably overkill for a first date, and this might not even be a date. It's a playbook that's always worked for him in the past, flowers at the door, arm out, help to the car. Problem is, Seth's not a girl he met in a college classroom, he's one of his best friends, someone who's been there beside him for years. He needs to devise a new playbook on the spot and that's always been Seth's job.

It’s too late to toss them, the door is opening and Seth stands there scrubbing at his face, bedhead at full power. Roman’s mouth is dry as he soaks in Seth’s sleepy face. Seth’s expression changes as he registers who’s standing there, and what he’s holding.

“What’s with the flowers?” He asks, moving back and holding the door open so Roman can come in. “Gimme a minute to finish packing. You have breakfast yet?”

Roman shakes his head, but Seth’s not looking.

“No,” he says. “There’s one of those breakfast and brunch places around the corner, the concierge told me. You want to get something?” He means to ask if he can buy Seth breakfast, but it doesn’t come out sounding right.

He sets the flowers down on the table and Seth picks them up, sniffing them curiously.

“They from a fan?” He asks, looking up at Roman. He’s wearing his glasses, and he pushes them up his nose as he waits for Roman to answer.

“Yeah,” Roman says. “I mean, uh, no. I got them at a store.”

It’d been one of the weirdest convenience stores Roman’s ever seen, bouquets of flowers shelved in the walk-in beer fridge, but no one had questioned a large Samoan buying roses early on a weekday morning so maybe weird is subjective.

Seth is peering at Roman now in confusion. “Why?” He asks.

Roman swallows, throat working past the lump forming around the words he wants to blurt out. Because, he wants to say. Because you think I’d be a good caretaker and I want to look after you. Because I want you to believe that I can be the person who provides what you need. Because I want you to look at me and see someone worthy of your desire.

He shrugs awkwardly. “Wanted to get you something nice,” he says.

“Well thanks, man,” Seth says, smelling them again with a small smile. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.” He grabs his bag, still holding onto the flowers. “Maybe the restaurant will lend us an extra pitcher of water.” As they leave the room, Roman notices that Seth’s cheeks are rosy red, and he keeps bringing the flowers up to his nose, but the cellophane doesn’t hide his smile every time he sniffs them.

The restaurant is not super busy, and they’re able to charm their way into a larger booth near the back, meant for more people than two, but better suited to their bags and legs and Roman’s shoulders.

“You enjoy your poutine last night?” Roman asks. Seth stares at him blankly for a minute and Roman knows in that moment, knows what he was pretty sure was happening last night but has confirmed now. Unexpectedly, the thing he feels most strongly in that moment is hope. Dean had made his play and succeeded, so who’s to say Roman won’t have the same luck?

An easy smirk slides onto his face. “Or, y’know, whatever you got up to.” He adds, and the deepening flush on Seth’s skin confirms even more so what he suspects.

Their food arrives, saving Seth from having to answer, and they both tuck into their meals. The conversation shifts over to innocuous discussions about their upcoming shows, their flight tonight, their plans for Easter.

He can’t pinpoint when the shift occurs, but at some point in the meal their regular banter takes a distinct turn into flirtation. Every jokey hand on the arm lands just a little heavier, every glance is that much more heated. Roman’s pretty sure he isn’t reading into things, but not knowing for sure has him feeling on edge.

Seth pushes his plate away with a satisfied sigh and Roman laughs. He leans over, wiping carefully at a smear of avocado in Seth’s facial hair.

“You saving that for later, uce?” He asks, and Seth tilts his head down, trying to see what Roman is talking about. Roman pulls his hand away, showing him the napkin and Seth grins.

“You never know what you might need an energy boost,” he jokes.

When they leave the restaurant, Seth presents the flowers to their waitress with a bow. Roman gets it, he’d known even when he bought them that they wouldn’t be able to take them on the plane, and at least this way they aren’t getting tossed in an airport trash bin. Still, seeing Seth kiss the woman’s cheek and then pose for selfies with the roses, that chafes a little.

Seth makes it better when they get outside and he slides his free hand around Roman’s waist. Roman looks down at him in surprise and Seth smiles shyly at him. Roman relaxes into the half-embrace. They’re in a big city, no one is looking for a story about two dudes hugging it out.

As they walk, Seth’s hand stays at his hip, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm. It takes Roman a few beats to realize what it is before he gets it, Seth is drumming his intro music against Roman’s skin.

He wishes their time together was always like this, carefree easy moments enjoying each other’s company. He thinks maybe it could be, but to find out he needs to break the moment and say something.

He takes a deep breath. “Hey, can we um. Can we talk?”

Seth looks sideways at him. “Whoa,” he says, “that’s a serious gameface you’ve got on. Everything okay?” His hand falls away from Roman’s side and he misses the warmth of it.

Roman tries to relax his facial muscles, but he can tell it doesn’t work. To an outsider, he probably looks like he’s scowling. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he reassures Seth. “I just wanted to say – well, ask – no, I wanted to tell you something.”

“I’m all ears, bud.” Seth says.

“When we get back to the States,” Roman is formulating his plan on the fly, which has never been his strength, and he only hopes it makes sense as it comes out. “You should stay with me. We’re in Florida for a few days, no sense in hotel-hopping if we don’t have to.”

“Yeah?” Seth asks. “You gonna do my laundry and make me a home-cooked meal every night, too?” It doesn’t sound sardonic, so Roman answers it seriously.

“I’ll take care of you any way you let me,” he says earnestly.

Seth doesn’t say anything at first, and then softly, “yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

They’re walking with no real destination in mind, they still have an afternoon to kill before they need to check in to their flight, and Roman takes another chance now, bumping their arms together until their fingers brush against each other.

He looks down at their hands as their fingers interlace, and then he looks at Seth, who has a small smile on his face. The anxious weight of the morning finally slips off of him and he feels himself fully relax for the first time since last night.

There’s time enough to figure out what comes next, but for now he’s got a free afternoon to spend with the man he likes – the man he could love – by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding the third aspect of the fuck/marry/kill trifecta, as Roman and Seth went about their day, somewhere in America, Kurt Angle felt a chill run down his spine.


End file.
